


The Last Time

by iAmYou



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iAmYou/pseuds/iAmYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wrote her letters. She never answered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written... oddly.

It was to be the first time they would meet. It was also to be the last. He would be leaving in the morning for home, and she was never to step outside the village again. The people at home called him arrogant and odd, and he would not deny that, but no one could deny that when he arrived home that winter he was different.

"I fear you write in vain, Doctor," told him an old new friend. "After only one meeting you cannot believe she will keep up a correspondence over the long winter."

"You have no faith, Jack. Surely she felt what I feel and will not hesitate to answer. When winter is over I shall return to the village Powell, our meeting last month shall not be our last."

The letters sent by the Doctor reached the village only a week after being sent, and the postmaster frowned. There was no 'Rose Tyler' in Powell, or indeed all of London.

"Every week we recieve a letter to a girl that does not exist, what do we do? Do we return them?" He asked his assistant. "I read one, I admit in shame. The writer shall return to Powell when the winter is over."

"Rose Tyler! What an unusual name. No one names their child by a flower anymore," answered the assistant, a young man named Mickey that the Smith family had adopted.

"Should we ask Sir Peter?"

"I believe that would be wise, sir."

The home of Sir Peter was large and empty. The ghosts of child's laughter echoed in silence.

"Yes," replied the knight sadly. "I do recognize the name. My daughter, Rose. She was not allowed outside often because of her state of health, she must have met him when she snuck out the day before the travelers left for home. She loved the excitement." He sighed. "I shall have to tell the poor man that writes to her of her fate, and it will not be a pleasant letter to pen. Thank you, postmaster, for the letters."

And so, when the Doctor opened up his first letter, early in the third month of winter, he recieved not a note from the beautiful young woman he'd met in the market, but a message from her father, who had lost his only daughter the day all the travelers left for home.


End file.
